Roma
by Quinhwyvar
Summary: She gave him a piece of her mind. Little did he know that wouldn't be the end of it. NOT EzioxOC


**Chapter I**

I had promised myself that I would be patience for the rest of my life. Anger and frustration were for younger women. I did well until he had to go and ruin it.

The man hit the water outside my house sounded like an exploding cannon. The vibrations made the floor jump and the wet dish in my hands fell to the ground. I gritted my teeth. This was the third time today.

I gripped the counter and counted to ten. Patience. Anger aged and I had aged too much already.

The splashing outside finished as the person hauled himself on the dock. The white layers of clothing flickered by the window. By the time I had reached ten, he was gone. I closed my eyes forcing myself to relax.

I nearly fell as another bang shook my little room. Another person had hit the water outside my house from a height I did not imagine. The vibration shook my bones cracking any emotion that I had been lying to myself about.

Please look away now, I was breaking my promise to be patient.

The door exploded open. I raged to the right not enjoying the morning air. There he was treading with a cocky little smile.

"You!" I screamed, wet dishrag in my hand. He looked up, brown hair plastered down his face. His gloved hand pointed to his chest. The grin still in place.

"Yes! You! Idiot!" Dishwater flicked onto his face, "you keep jumping in my river! Who do you think you are?"

"Madam..." No. His deep Italian tones wouldn't cut it.

I came to the dock's edge shaking the rag still, "Who are you? A fool? A fool pretending to be a merman? A dampened angel? The scum in the ocean?"

He held up a gloved hand but I wasn't having it.

"No! I know you are. You are an five year old child who doesn't know any manners! Shall I put you over my knee and-"

"Madam!" The man's voice rose and he waved his hands against the rest of what I was saying. He dragged back his hood confirming that that little smile was gone. The color of his skin, the shape, I scowled even further. He was a foreigner.

I took a different approach.

"Every day _-Splash! Splash! Splash!_ " I crouched down and my hand went down each time into the river. The little waves crashed against his chest.

He blinked away the water and his mouth was open. No words.

Flicking away the extra water on my hands in his face, I looked behind me, "Where do you come from? That tower you live in? What in the seven hells below us makes you think that is a good idea?"

The water gurgled. The man swam to the edge of the dock putting his arms up on the edge. Metal clanked against the worn wood.

His eyes tried to take me in, " _madam_."

"Is your mouth broken? Is that the only word that you can say?" My little apartment loomed up behind me, "Shall I fetch my cleaver to fix it? Maybe I'll hit you over the head with it to fix the brain of yours too."

The heat in my face was starting to fade. This idiot was armed to the teeth. A sword at his side, a dagger behind that, a crossbow on his back, the list was endless. How did this man walk under such weight?

"That will not be necessary," he hefted himself up on the edge. The dirty water leaked from all his white clothes. The rotten smell was already making my noise curl. He didn't seem to be affected.

The man wiped away the water dripping down his beard, "Start again. What's your trouble?"

"It isn't hard to understand. Stop jumping in the river. I get absolutely no peace," I pointed at the water that was just starting to become calm again.

The man waved up at the city busying itself with the new day, "Allow me to buy you something for your troubles. I'm sure we can work something out."

"I may be sixty but I can certainly walk myself to the market! I've seen the women you've taken into that tower. They never come out the same. All dressed of them are dressing in white like you."

The man's eyebrows raised and he looked away. His shoulders shook with a chuckle that he wasn't smart enough to conceal.

I frowned and wanted to whack the younger man with my dish towel. Patience. This was not patience. This was the Italian blood that firing under my skin. The people around us didn't notice but just went on yelling and name calling.

After a second, he pulled himself together and got to his feet. He loomed over my head, taller and more handsome that my husband had ever been.

He bowed, his head down and the weapons clanking along, "Apologizes madam for the trouble. I'll have a talk with my men."

"It's simpler than that. Just stop jumping," I said looking away. He rose and the I've-got-you smile was back. Adjusting his gauntlet, he paused and then carefully stepped around me on the wooden dock.

I watched him stroll away. Before the main road, he looked back and pulled up the hood. Was he trying to keep away the sun? Then he leapt into the sky and was gone.

The reflection in the water shivered as I looked down at it, "I've too old for this."

Now to resume that promise of patience.

Later, much later after the sun had died in the sky, I went out to say good night to the day.

There was a gift outside my door. White daises from the fields wrapped up paper and a baguette. The flour was fresh and yeast smell told me it was freshly cooked.

A note was place on top of it. I cracked open the wax seal with my thumb.

 _Apologizes for jumping in your river. May this make up for any grievances._

 _-Ezio Auditore da Firenze_

A foreigner. I knew it.


End file.
